An Evening in Two
by SofiaCalista
Summary: A story about a lonely man, a missing key, a drunken woman, a blonde neighbor, and the extra minute.
1. The Lonely Man and the Missing Key

AN: This might be a bit confusing. I'm testing this kind of writing style in English. I really hope it translates well. Also, this is a longer version of a drabble I made. Hope you enjoy.

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**The Lonely Man and the Missing Key**

The man walked out of the bar, alone. Turning down offers of company and after-party party. He didn't know why his feet suddenly felt restless. But what he did know is that after years of doing the same thing on Christmas eve, it lost its appeal. Getting wasted wasn't a good idea anymore, he already knew it wouldn't make him forget being alone. His family was still in twelve and their mother mandated that if he wanted to be with them for the holidays, he should learn to visit.

But for that man it was a place he'll never be at peace. So he chose to be alone. And if he was less of a coward he would admit that he was lonely. Work and women weren't enough anymore to distract him from that feeling.

His feet led him to an open market filled with late shoppers and families strolling along the street. His feet were sadists, he decided. And he was a masochist for not running away from the scene.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started wandering at shops, stalls, and even stared at the giant tree, which was filled with lights and ornaments, at the square for a good ten minutes. Thinking it wasn't enough he stared on a minute more.

Sighing then chuckling, he looked away from the tree. The extra minute did not quell the pain that the longing and loneliness caused.

However, at that instance, while he spent that extra minute, gazing blankly at the tree, a key was dropped right behind him. If he had turned after the first ten minutes of staring at the tree, the day would've ended as the lonely man walked home, alone and without a purpose. But the lonely man was desperate enough to spend an extra minute while the owner lost the key and had disappeared into the crowd.

As he turned, he inadvertently step on it, a cracking sound confirmed the destruction his sadist foot had caused. The lonely man picked up the missing key and examined the keychain attached to it. Most of its plastic shell was missing and from what's left of it, he could tell there were red and green paint on it.

The key, he thought, was familiar. He knew he had seen that type of key before. The lonely man looked around in search of a possible owner of the missing key. He found none, so he shoved the key in his pocket and started walking back to the bar.

Little did he know that if he had waited another minute, the owner would appear, frantically searching for it. However, what the frantic owner would find were remnants of the broken keychain. The lonely man and the missing key was nowhere to be found.

But the lonely man walked away without even looking back, a mission in his mind and hand. His sadist feet led him back to the bar, in search for someone that might help him remember where he had seen the key before. A drunken woman with a buzz cut spotted him and after a quick [and hard] punch in his arm and lecturing him of how he was a bad friend by leaving her alone with the easylilies and the assholes they called friends, they sat down and talked about the missing key and its familiarity.

Though amused at the interest the lonely man had taken with the missing key, the drunken woman tried to help by telling him that he was stupid and of course he should thought it was familiar as he carried one like it for years. That she too carried one, pulling hers out from her pocket, rather clumsily.

Her apartment key.

The lonely man and the drunken woman had lived at the same apartment building ever since they arrived at District Two. He stood, ready to leave again but the drunken woman grabbed his arm and asked why it was important. The lonely man didn't know himself why, so he shrugged and told her that but finding the missing key's owner was what he wanted to do the most that evening.

The drunken woman understood what he was feeling. She had been experiencing that empty feeling for years. She thought maybe it'll all work out for him, a smile was on her lips as she watched him walked away.

He found himself leaving the bar, the second time that night. Only, it wasn't loneliness that drove him out but a purpose and no matter how tiny [of a purpose] it was, it kept the longing he felt earlier that evening at bay. The lonely man took another look at the key and now just realised that it was indeed so much like his own key but a different number and letter engraved on it.

The lonely man laughed.

Whoever owned the missing key was living on the same floor and right next door to his apartment. This just proved how bad he was at socialising outside work and a few friends from Twelve and Thirteen. Although, most probably, the owner of the missing key was from Twelve or Thirteen. The new government had assigned housing for those who [served in the war and] wanted to relocate. He laughed some more at the absurdness of the situation. Bottom line was that the lonely man didn't know who his neighbour was.

He had lived a pretty solitary life. He thought about it and he liked it just the way it was. The lonely man wondered when that line of thinking changed.

The missing key in hand, he felt as if there's another change coming. He shook his head, it was just a key. So, he went to the landlord and was told that the lonely man could go and give the owner himself. The frantic owner arrived not long ago asking for the landlord to open the apartment and another copy of the missing key.

A sigh escaped him as he stood in front of the door the missing key was meant for. Raising his hand to knock, he wondered if he's going to regret doing so, he's starting to think surrendering the key to the landlord a better choice. But as he was clinging to that tiny sense of purpose for that evening, he knocked twice and waited.

The door opened and revealed a short blonde girl, eyes blue, and a smile on her lips. He knew her, the blonde neighbour was not the prettiest girl in school back in Twelve but she was friendliest.

He held the missing key up between them and the lonely man smiled at the shoemaker's daughter.

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The conclusion of this story will be posted later this week. Thanks for reading.


	2. The Extra Minute

**The Extra Minute**

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Someone from home.

It was what he had thought as he dangled the key in front of the blonde neighbour, who had gratefully reached for it, a sigh of relief when the missing key wasn't missing anymore.

The lonely man was glad, don't get him wrong. But he wasn't as glad as he thought he would be, seeing someone from home. He figured it was because he had seen her a lot during the rebellion. She was a constant company of the bread boy when he was in rehabilitation.

Another smile was given his way and a sincere invitation to dinner she was preparing for friends. The lonely man thought about it, the invitation, but decided to decline. Something akin to disappointment heavy in his chest. Also, he was sure he wouldn't want to be an outsider in a group of strangers. He wasn't good at making friends.

In another attempt to repay the lonely man, the neighbour then offered coffee. It's the least she could do, she said. He was about to reject again when he noticed the look in her eyes. It just hit the lonely man that for her, he was someone from home, too.

So, he agreed.

A decision that if he hadn't came to, would have end the lonely man's night in his apartment with him going the way of Haymitch Abernathy. But he agreed, a cup of coffee and an awkward one sided conversation later, he was saying goodbye. The lonely man walked to his apartment without even looking back.

However, the night was still young and fate had decided that he had taken on the wrong search as he had, once again, discovered that a key was missing. Only this time, it was his.

The lonely man didn't know at what point he had lost it. He also didn't know that it was the drunken woman's fault. Earlier that evening, she had nicked the key for blackmailing purposes. But as the booze started pouring in, her devious plan had taken the backseat and subsequently forgotten.

His trek to the landlord's office was filled with alternating groaning and sighing. At one point, he had laughed out loud at the irony of his situation. And the sound of his laughing was what startled the occupants of the landlord's office.

He opened the door and was greeted with a stern look and a surprised one. The landlord told him that she had found his key.

His name on her lips. It took a second to register in his addled brain that she had said it and a couple second more to realise who she was. But what he didn't know is that the key wasn't found by her, she was given it.

Back in the bar while he was walking home, the drunken woman remembered the key she stole and got up on a table and announced the she had it. In her inebriated state, she asked if anyone in the crowd would like to sleep with the lonely man and told them she had the key to make it happen. There's quite a few as equally intoxicated women that volunteered to give it back to him.

The drunken woman looked at every hopeful candidates but her gaze fell at the quiet woman huddled in a corner as if she didn't know how she got there. The drunken woman sympathised with her as most probably tomorrow, the same sentiment would fill her hangover-mind. She jumped off the table and made way to the quiet woman in the corner.

She sat beside the quiet woman and presented her with the key [to the lonely man's pants, um, door. She meant door]. The drunken woman told her the address [it took several attempt] and slipped the key into her purse. She then skipped away to the next shot of tequila.

The quiet woman was at a lost. She was only there because her co-workers dragged her. She wasn't really enjoying herself but everytime they asked her to join she hadn't refused, not even once. She had nowhere to go anyways.

Maybe, she should find him and give him back his key.

But the quiet woman had really no intention of seeing the owner in person. She figured if the drunken woman was his friend then he, at least, must be as crazy.

The quiet woman arrived at the apartment building just as the owner of the key was saying his goodbye to his blonde neighbour. The landlord was rubbing his head from the problems with his tenants' keys. The one who found his neighbour's key, also lost his, most probably without him knowing.

A loud chuckle accompanied the opening of the door, a man entered, the landlord told him of the lost key and the quiet woman utter the first thought that came to her mind.

"Gale Hawthorne."

She could see a question mark in his face and then the he lonely man grinned, which she returned.

He remembered her.

Like his blonde neighbour, she's someone from home. But she's a someone who had actual history with him. She's a someone that he was actually glad to see.

Only he didn't know that it's not only history he shared with her. It's true that had he stayed in the bar the first time there's a chance that he'd meet her again, much sooner. But the corner she put herself into had made sure that it would not happen even if he stayed. She was there, not looking at anyone. And he was there, shutting out everyone.

He didn't know it yet, but he's going to be lonely man, no more.

So they stand there still smiling at each other, not realising the years the drunken woman would spend taking credit of the chance meeting, while really it was that extra minute he had spend staring at that festive tree that had given way to their future.

But actually, maybe it was what he said next that sealed the deal.

"Pretty dress."

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What do you think?

Thanks for reading! :)


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